In 1884, while bringing a horse thief named Crazy Steve into Deadwood for trial, Bullock first met a 26-year-old rancher who was also the Deputy Sheriff in Medora, North Dakota. The sheriff’s name was Theodore Roosevelt. Sharing a passion for law, hunting, and the preservation of nature, the two men quickly bonded forming a friendship that lasted until Roosevelt’s death in January 1919.
The two not only camped, hunted, and fished together but Roosevelt regularly sent his sons Ted, Kermit, and Archie to spend their summers on the S&B Ranch. While serving as vice-president in 1901, Roosevelt oversaw Bullock’s appointment to serve as the second Forest Supervisor of the Black Hills National Forest.
Three months after Roosevelt’s death, receiving support from the Society of Black Hills Pioneers, Bullock prompted the construction of the Friendship Tower to commemorate Roosevelt’s life. The 31 foot tall medieval looking tower stands on Mount Roosevelt (renamed at Bullock’s insistence) just north of the town proper and was dedicated on 4 July 1919.
Bullock died just three months later and, like Wild Bill Hickok and Calamity Jane, he is buried in more or less in Mt. Moriah Cemetery. I write more or less because Bullock’s grave site sits on a small plateau about 250 yards above the main cemetery and the path to it isn’t maintained by the cemetery. However, Bullock insisted he be buried there so he could look out across the gulch at the Friendship Tower.
While he might have had that view at the time of his death, it’s now been obscured by a century of forest growth.
Visiting the Friendship Tower
I’d decided that since I missed the Needles, I’d at least make the climb to the Friendship Tower so I stopped in the Visitor’s Center to confirm directions to Mount Roosevelt and was glad I did. I’d stopped there earlier in the day and gotten one set of directions to the tower but since my morning mishap, I needed some reassurance that I’d marked the route correctly on my map. I spoke with a different person and, while she confirmed what I’d been told in the morning, she also suggested a different route she said would be quicker, simpler, and involve a shorter drive on the unpaved road up the mountain. It seemed like a better choice.
As I exited that Visitor’s Center, I passed a fellow traveling with his wife and two daughters who were headed into the center. He was wearing a University of Maryland shirt so I struck up a conversation. Before going our separate ways, we briefly talked about the Terps and then about what had brought us to that part of the country.
I looped out of town past the Lodge at Deadwood and Kevin Costner’s museum Tatanka – Story of Bison and onto the dirt road that led up the mountain. There was one other car in the parking area as I began the half mile or so climb up to the tower. The combination of my still tender ankle and the altitude had me huffing and puffing when I spotted two women coming down the trail. I asked them if I had much farther to climb and I felt some relief when they assured me that I didn’t. They saw my camera and told me that I should be able to get some excellent shots despite the generally ash shaded sky.
Apparently, the Tower doesn’t get many visitors from the eastern U.S. so the conversation broadened and I was glad for the breather. I mentioned that I’d stayed at the Devils Tower B & B the previous night and one of the women immediately asked if Frank had taken me climbing up that Tower. I told her no but that I’d found Frank to be an interesting character. She agreed and told me that her daughter had worked for him at the inn for a pair of summers. As I mentioned in a previous post, Frank’s reputation spreads far outside his little B & B. Although the remaining walk wasn’t too far, it was a bit farther than I’d inferred from the two women.
This is the Tower
There’s also a short video of the views from the top of the tower in the Deadwood folder in Google Photos. (I simply can’t figure out how to insert a video not from You Tube into one of these posts.)
Next stop Vore Buffalo Jump
Technically, my next stop was the Northeast Wyoming Welcome Center – not because I was particularly in need of information or welcoming for that matter but because I needed what we euphemistically call a rest. I also thought someone there might be able to provide me with some information on whether the fires in the west had yet any impact on either Grand Teton (where I’d be in two days) or Yellowstone National Parks (where I’d be two days after that). Though the smoke wasn’t severe in the eastern part of the state, it was still a persistent and almost tangible presence. I’d received word that the motel and lodge at Lake McDonald where I’d booked my stay in Glacier National Park had been closed and that I’d been relocated to the east side of the park. I had to imagine that. even though Yellowstone was nearly 400 miles south of Glacier, conditions would only worsen as I continued west and drove closer to the source.
The restroom break lasted a bit longer than I expected because when I exited I once again crossed paths with the family from Maryland whom I’d met in Deadwood. We chuckled at the coincidence and chatted a bit more about our respective travel plans before I left them to their rest and set out to end my day.